Piercings
by Harvey Elwood
Summary: AU Sherlock is the world's only gay consulting detective. After a long case, he decides to take a break and go to his favorite gay bar. There he meets, Dr. John Watson, a man with gauges in his ears that says he has even more body mods under his clothes. Warnings: biting, male-on-male sex, sex toys, and piercings/tattoos. Based on fanart by MsAether. Now with added second chapter.
1. Tongue Webbing Piercing

**Author's Note - **This is the edited version of "Piercings", if you'd like to know why it's been edited, please read my profile.

Thank you to the wonderful MsAether on tumblr for letting me use her fanart for this story. (It's the cover too!)

**Disclaimer - **I do not own BBC Sherlock, the character of Sherlock, or the character of John Watson. I am American, so the slang and frequency of slang is most likely disproportionate to how an English person will actually speak.

**Warning - **this is a male-on-male smut fic. It contains graphic descriptions of sex, "dirty talking", and sex toys.

* * *

Sherlock was checking himself in the mirror, it was Saturday night, nearing on eight o'clock. He decided to wear a nice button-down, a black silk tie, a sports coat and his best pair of slacks. He looked like he was going in for an interview, he looked professional and important. He was actually, going to a gay bar.

Not for a case or an experiment, no, he'd been working non-stop for months for that bloody case that took up hours and days on end of just thinking and contemplating. He hadn't slept or ate much at all, chain-smoking in his little flat. His throat was sore, there were bags under his eyes, but he'd eaten a few pieces of toast and jam before he'd taken a shower and got dressed. He didn't want to faint from lack of food, and he wanted to look and smell nice for whomever he brought home.

Sherlock didn't like admitting it _at all, _but he was human. He had needs, penis needs for one. He hadn't even wanked in a while and it had been even longer since he'd had a good shag (or any shag at all).

It was nice to have a little holiday.

"Mrs. Hudson, I'm going out tonight!" he called out as he went down the stairs, "I don't know when I'll be back."

"Stay safe!" she called back from God Knows Where in her flat.

Sherlock hailed a cab, got in, and told him to go to his favorite gay bar, well, it was the only gay bar he knew of, so by default it was his favorite. He'd been there once about a year ago, he'd taken a boy home and received and given a blow job, then the boy left in a rush, something about an emergency.

No matter now.

He paid the cabbie, got his ID checked at the door, and then went in.

Inside, the lights were dimmed and there was loud techno music blasting. He couldn't hear people's conversations but he could make out that they were all shouting at each other. On the dance floor, boys grinded against each other, others lounged around on the couches drinking, talking, and snogging. Sherlock went right up to the bar and ordered a pint.

He looked around at the scene, the boys chatting up other men, women leaning against walls and looking up and down at their girlfriends. It seemed like a good night, and when he turned around to get his drink, the bartender's hand was still around the glass, and he was smiling devilishly at Sherlock.

"That sure is a smart suit, sir," the bar-tender said, winked, and went back to work without staying in time for Sherlock to flirt back.

Sherlock whipped around and continued to look at the scene, while drinking down his lager. Someone caught his eye, it was a blonde man, mildly short, he was chatting up a girl, but not in a flirtatious way, more in a, "Hi, how are you doing?" way. The blonde caught Sherlock's for a second, then did a double take to hold his stare.

One of the blonde's eyebrows flicked upwards towards Sherlock. In a second, the girl he was talking to was being hugged from behind by another girl, the two women kissed and left the blonde.

The blonde's eyes didn't leave Sherlock's as he stocked up to him.

"Hullo," the short blonde said to Sherlock and he openly let his gaze drag down Sherlock's body and back up.

"Well, hello," Sherlock said raising his glass, "Buy you a drink?"

"Buy _me _a drink?" the blonde's eyebrows went up and he put his hand to his chest, he smiled delightedly, "That's new. Of course you can buy me a drink, New Best Friend."

He hopped up onto a bar-stool rather awkwardly, and Sherlock called back over to the bar-keep, who seemed to be busy serving someone else. In the meantime, introductions.

"My name is Sherlock," he said, holding a hand out to formally shake the other man's.

"John," the other said proudly, "Doctor John Watson."

"Doctor?" Sherlock was surprised, and it was at this time his eyes caught on John's ears. They were stretched wide by those special earrings that he'd been hearing about and seeing on youths. What were they called?

"Doctor, your ears," Sherlock said, "What are these black things?" Sherlock took the opportunity to hold the man's earlobe.

"They're called gauges," John replied, "Do you know of them? You get your ears pierced and then you stretch them wider and wider a little bit with plugs."

"They are a…body modification," Sherlock observed.

"Yes," John nodded, "Everyone has body modifications."

"Do you have any more?"

At this time the bartender came back over to pick up John's order, John smiled widely and sweetly to the bartender, then gruffly said, "Any hard lager you have, thank you."

After his drink was served, Sherlock repeated himself, "Do you have any more, body modifications, I mean?"

"Yeah, I do," John said, "A lot, actually."

"May I see?"

"They're under my shirt…and other places."

"So what do I have to do to get you to take your shirt off?"

"Oh," John said, none embarrassed, he took a glug of his lager and said, "Buy me more drinks and we'll see what happens."

Sherlock and John laughed at this, and they continued to talk about body modifications in main-stream, and their work. They went through a lot of lager but neither of them got drunk, both very able to handle their alcohol well. John was surprised to be with a consulting detective, he hadn't known there was such a position.

"There isn't," Sherlock shook his head, "I made it up."

"You mean you lied to me or you're the only consulting detective on the planet?"

"Yes, only one," Sherlock smiled, "What about you?"

"What about me?" John smiled, drinking in his lager.

"Obviously an army doctor," Sherlock said, giving him a once-over, "but you're not on break. You're retired. You're glad to be back home but you miss the adventure of the war. You like being able to literally save people's lives. Money's tight because you can't do much on an army pension and working at surgery, but you get all your body modifications done professionally because that's safe and you're a doctor so you value safe. You've recently come to terms with being gay, and that's why you're at a place like this. You're the kind of bloke that if he knew he was into men when he was six you would've settled down a long time ago."

John stared, looking at Sherlock in awe for a second, but a smile crept along his face. Sherlock was worried that he was going to happily punch him in the mouth and walk away, but instead he breathed, "That's amazing."

"Hnn? Amazing?" Sherlock asked, lowering his lager from his lips.

"Yeah, that's brilliant, you got _everything _right, well – except uh…" John itched his eyebrow.

"What?" Sherlock was desperate now, he moved in close to his new mate, "What did I get wrong? Tell me!"

Someone else would get put off by Sherlock's sudden insanity, but John just giggled at his manic panic and said, "I'm not actually gay."

"It's always something!" he threw his hands up.

John giggled more and said, "No, I'm bisexual."

As the evening went on their barstools got closer and closer together and so did their faces as they went on conspiring about their favorite drinks, John went on to tell Sherlock about how much he loved the feel of a warm whiskey going down his throat, the way he put it was almost erotic.

Sherlock wanted to know more about John's body modifications, he was immensely interested, it was his first time conversing with someone who had gauges in their earlobes.

"Where else do you have modifications?" Sherlock asked.

"Like I said, on my chest, and…I have one in my mouth too."

"A tongue ring?"

"Not exactly, I got the webbing of my tongue pierced."

"Can I see?"

"I'll let you feel," John said, and without further ado, leaned forward and put his mouth on Sherlock's. Sherlock opened his mouth just as John did and licked his bottom lip, asking for entrance, John let him in and silently, Sherlock's tongue felt under John's and playfully flicked at the little bar that was under his tongue. John made a pleasant turned-on noise, so Sherlock did it again, then John held the back of Sherlock's head and played with his tongue for a while.

"You're good at that," Sherlock said, dizzy from the kiss.

"Thanks," John winked, "Do you want to see it?"

"See what?"

"The piercing?" John said, he opened his mouth and lifted his tongue, and yes, there it was, a little silver bobby under John's tongue.

"Yes, I see it," Sherlock said, "it's delicious."

"Mmm, you might have to take me home so you can see the others," John replied, wiggling his shoulders sexily.

"All right," Sherlock said.

"What?" John asked.

"Okay! Yes, come to my flat! I want to see all of your body mods!" Sherlock said, and slapped fifty pounds onto the table, and walked away, expecting John to follow, and follow John did. Well, after he took a last sip of his beloved ale.

They stood waiting for a cab, and when one pulled up, they climbed in, and John started kissing Sherlock again.

"This okay?" he asked against his skin.

"Definitely," Sherlock replied and held the sides of John's face so they could snog more. John had a _very _talented tongue, flicking in and out of Sherlock's mouth superfast and growling and nipping at his bottom lip. Sherlock moaned appreciatively as John did so and let his fingers rub up John's shirt.

Sherlock paid the cabbie and stocked up into the flat, unlocking the door for them. John looked around, "It's very homey."

And by homey, he meant messy.

"I've been meaning to clean up," Sherlock said once more, and galloped, almost gazelle-like over and sat on his chair, "Okay, I want to see them," he said to John.

John looked confused, I Thought We Were Going To Have Sex confused, but instead he walked over and stood directly in front of Sherlock, Sherlock's face at crotch height. John pulled his black shirt off over his head so he was standing in only his trousers and pants in front of him.

On his chest, there was an anatomically correct red heart with purple bat-like veiny wings sitting on a bed of flames. It reached all the way across his chest, each wing pointing at his shoulders. John's upper arms and shoulders were in a shower of bright electric blue stars. On his right arm there was a green symbol that was most likely a coat of arms, surrounded by small red crosses. On his left arm were green-silver snakes, crawling around his arm. Each tatted arm ended with two black lines just above his elbows like the ending of a t-shirt. The best tattoos, Sherlock thought were the guns that were lying, gleaming on his hip-bones, barrels pointed down to his crotch, hidden under his pants, they were done so well, they looked like they were shimmering with light. Although they were just tattoos.

"Wow," Sherlock looked amazed, and before he knew it, he grabbed John's hips and brought them forward so he could look at the guns up-close.

"Yes, the artist did an amazing job on those," John said, staring appreciatively at Sherlock.

"Could I?" Sherlock asked, his hands touching the touching the pair of red pants and the blue jeans he was wearing, indicating he wanted to drag his pants down to see the barrels of the guns.

"If you'd like," John said.

So he did so, and touched the guns, almost expecting to feel the cold of them, they were that real-looking.

"I have one other piercing," John said.

"Where?" Sherlock looked up to see his companion's face.

By way of answering, John put his knees on either side of Sherlock's thighs, straddling his lap and started kissing him thoroughly again. Now with more grunting and moaning from the two men, what did they have to hide? All alone in Sherlock's flat.

John's hands moved around to start taking off Sherlock's Jacket, they let it sit behind Sherlock's back, then he unbuttoned his shirt and yanked that off.

"Would you like to *kiss* go to *kiss* my bedroom?" Sherlock asked, their tongues wrapped around each other.

"Sounds like a great plan, lead the way," John said, hopping off his lover's lap, Sherlock lovingly took John's hand and lead him into the bedroom, where Sherlock pushed him down on the bed and got on top of him.

Sherlock kissed down John's neck and bit his collarbones playfully, John hissed, _"Ooh _yeah."

"You like biting?" Sherlock asked.

"Mmmmmmm, very much," John replied.

So, Sherlock bit his way down John's stomach, getting varying groans from him with each bite, Sherlock unceremoniously unzipped and unbuttoned John's jeans and threw them off over his shoulder. John was lying there in just his red pants.

"Um, that's it, that's the last piercing," John said, heavy-breathing, and licking his lips.

"You mean it's on your…" Sherlock said and ripped off the pants. Oh, he had to see that. And there it was, John's cock lying against his stomach, semi-hard, and at the end, just at the tip, there was a piercing at the head. Sherlock shuddered.

"You okay?" John asked concernedly.

"I want to feel it…in my mouth," he got out. The shudder was from how turned on he became in such a short amount of time.

"Yes, do it," John moaned.

Sherlock leaned back down and held the cock lightly in his head as he licked at the ring and then his cock, then he swirled his tongue around in circles to get a feel of his penis and the penis ring, John was letting out delighted sighs and petting the back of Sherlock's hair. Suddenly Sherlock put the entire cock in his mouth and John threw his head back and let out a moan. Feeling the piercing at the back of Sherlock's throat felt better than expected. He came back up and licked the under-side of the length, John was now heavy-breathing but still in control.

"John, tell me about the other body mods you want," Sherlock said then attacked his cock again.

"Ah! Ohhhhhh, okay, um, I was kind of thinking about getting my tongue split?"

Sherlock made muffled "go on" sounds as he started lovingly licking his balls and sucking on them lightly.

"Oh fuck that's good, yes keep licking my balls," John whined, "um, yeah, I like the idea of splitting my tongue it's actually –oh! OhRightThere! Ah, yes! – it's actually two muscles naturally and ah! Ah! Ah! I want the pain and I want to give better blow – blow jobs."

"Say that again? You like pain?" Sherlock said as he licked just below his ballsack and then at the fleshy part between the ball sack and the beginning of the penis.

"Yeah, I like- I like it a lot," John moaned, "That's why I star- started with mods, I wanted to get my penis pierced but I was afraid ah! I might come all over the p-piercer…"

"Did you? Did you come on him?" Sherlock said and started biting on John's thighs.

"No, I didn't," John said, "I was actually really nervous."

"Why?"

"I felt that the pain might override the pleasure."

"Did it?"

"No, it felt good but not sexually good, just good," John said, his fists were now in the pillows, balled up and tense now that Sherlock was biting him, which he _loved. _

Sherlock went back up and sucked down John so his nose was now nuzzling in his pubic hair, John let out a low moan, _"Fuck, _you are damn good at that."

Without letting go of his cock with his mouth, Sherlock looked up at John and they made eye contact. John licked his lips and held eye contact as he started fucking Sherlock's mouth. John's hands held Sherlock's head in place by tugging at his hair and then holding his ears.

_"Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck Sherlock," _John whined, "I really bloody love rough sex. Will you let me fuck you hard?"

Sherlock's eyes went back into his head for a second before he growled an approval.

"Your mouth, ugh God," John growled, continuing to brutally fuck Sherlock's mouth. God how could he take that all without choking? "Your sweet fucking mouth, ugh God it's _perfect."_

The next time he looked down to see his cock disappearing into Sherlock's mouth, he made eye contact with Sherlock, and realized Sherlock's right shoulder was spasming….then he realized he was wanking. John let out a cry of pleasure as his cock kicked, he was losing it.

The sight of Sherlock wanking hard to his mouth being fucked was erotic as ever.

"Sher-Sher-Sherlock," John whined fantastically, "Please fuck me please?"

Sherlock held down John's hips as he reached over him and got into his drawer to get a condom and some lube, while the drawer was open, John was able to get a peek into it.

"Is that?" John asked excitedly, and then reached in before Sherlock could close it, "It's a dildo!" he screeched proudly.

"That's my toy," Sherlock explained.

"You like bottoming?"

"Sometimes," Sherlock said, as he was busiedly working lube onto his fingers, "but I could top sometimes. Especially for you."

Then he slipped one finger into John's puckered arsehole and John refused to drop the dildo and instead held onto it tighter as he let out a moan, "Fuck, that's good, go on and put the second in."

So Sherlock easily slipped the second one in and John's hips began thrusting onto his fingers. "You're fucking yourself on me," Sherlock said, "that's so sexy."

"Nnnnn nnnnnn," John's eyebrows came together and up as he plunged himself onto those finger again and again, "A third, Sherlock."

"What? Three?" Sherlock asked and then slipped his ring finger into his arsehole, "Fuck that is amazing. Three fingers."

John let his head fall back against the headboard, "This is so hot, fuck me, Sherlock."

Sherlock slipped the condom on and slicked lube onto himself then removed his fingers just as he went into John. John wrapped his legs around Sherlock as he slowly grinded against his lover.

"Faster, harder," John whined.

"That's right, you like it rough?" Sherlock asked.

John made an affirmative noise that soon grew into a rough moaning cry as Sherlock picked up the pace to the tenth degree and fucked into John hard. He watched as John's cock bobbed up and down, the piercing bouncing all about.

Sherlock's face was in John's neck, biting him severely, and with each bite John let out a new cry of pleasure.

Before he knew it there were wet fingers up his arse and he realized John was trying to finger him while he was getting fucked.

"Oh! Oh! Oh, down, down, fuck John –AGH! Oh, right there rightthere," Sherlock moaned into John's neck as John tried his best to finger his lover in an awkward position.

"Look at me, Sherlock," John demanded, and Sherlock turned his neck to see that John had slipped the dildo into his mouth and was sucking it off, Sherlock continued to fuck him as John let the dildo go with a resounding pop and then it disappeared behind Sherlock's back. Suddenly he knew what John was doing.

The dildo pushed into Sherlock's hole unexpectedly and he let out a cry and started fucking John brutally. John, in turn gasped and grunted, and flicked his wrist to make the toy frantically push out and push back into his arse hole.

"Fuck fuck fuck," John managed, and then a loud gasp, and, "_fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck I'mgonnacomeI'mgonnacomeI'mgonnacome."  
_With that, cum burst out of John's prick and his abdomen was covered in it.

Sherlock pulled out of him and started wanking himself off as John continued to erratically push the toy in and out of him at an animalistic pace. On his knees, Sherlock came onto John's stomach, screaming his name.

After Sherlock had orgasmed, he leaned back onto his heels, miscalculated and fell off the bed entirely.

"Sherlock, are you okay?!" John cried, urgently.

"I fell off the bed," Sherlock announced. John got off the bed, and kneeled next to his lover.

"Are you okay?"

"Ow ow ow," Sherlock chanted.

"What is it? What hurts? Let me help you," John said looking over Sherlock's body.

"My dignity! I fell on my dignity, John," Sherlock said, looking up at him and a smile broke out. John started laughing and then curled up next to his lover, kissing his cheeks and nuzzling his ears.

"You're a fantastic lover," John said, kissing and biting his lips.

"As are you, and creative too," Sherlock said, giving him neck kisses.

"Do you really masturbate with that?" John asked, referring to the dildo.

"Yes, I usually don't leave the house for long periods of time," Sherlock explained.

"Where'd you get it?"

"Off of the internet," Sherlock said, capturing the blonde's lips in his.

"I know a great sex shop if you're looking to buy more things," John said, nuzzling and biting his neck.

"Not really," Sherlock shrugged, "I just wanted the one thing…"

"I have a lot of toys back at my flat," John continued, "I got this one vibrating dildo from there and it works wonders, I think you might like something like that."

_"Vibrating _dildo?" Sherlock asked.

"Yeah."

"I didn't know they made such things."

"Really? Hmmm, maybe I should let you borrow mine or something some time…"

* * *

**Extended Author's Note - **If you're thinking about getting a body modification, please do so professionally as there is less of a risk of an infection.

Sex is nice, please make sure that you have a) consent and b)protection.

I am MsAether's biggest fan, if it wasn't for her, this fic would literally not exist.


	2. The Sex Shop

_Sherlock – _

_ After sex I'm usually quite peckish. I ate the entire tub of ice cream. My number has been programmed into your phone. Call me when I can buy you a new tub of ice cream and take you to the shop I was talking about. _

_ You looked tired, so I slipped out as quietly as I could without waking you. _

_ -JW_

That was the note that Sherlock found next to his cellular phone when he woke up and the tattooed man was nowhere to be found.

First, Sherlock tried to gather what shop John had mentioned during their night while he scrolled through his address book in his cell phone. By the time he got to the number listed with the display name as _John Watson, Damn Good Shag _he realized John meant the shop he had mentioned on the floor talking about sex toys.

He had mentioned a _vibrating _dildo, which really did more than perk up Sherlock's ears.

Days later, Sherlock sent his first text to John Watson

_I want to lick your guns. –SH_

_My flat or yours? – JW_

The next meeting, John had his back up against the wall of his flat as Sherlock's tongue was on John's tattoos. He bit his nipples and his thighs then dug his fingernail's into John's bum. John grabbed Sherlock's curly hair and fucked his mouth.

The meeting after that, Sherlock was digging his teeth into John's shoulder as John pushed his sheathed erection into Sherlock.

And after that, there was the night they had dinner out together, which resulted in a hand job in the bathroom.

Then there was just the constant onslaught of snogging on Sherlock's armchair.

One day, John showed up at Sherlock's flat in a black t-shirt and jeans. "Hullo, love," he said, as Sherlock opened the door. A sly smile encroached across Sherlock's face.

"John," Sherlock said, eyes going up and down John's body, "Come in."

"Nope," John answered, "I'm taking you out."

Sherlock slipped the cell phone he'd had in his hands in his pocket, took the jacket off the hangar and pushed it through onto his arms, then left with John.

"It's kind of nice out today," John noted, and hailed a cab, "Why are you wearing long sleeves?"

"Habit," Sherlock answered and climbed in after the tattooed blonde into the cab.

John gave the cabbie an address and the car pulled out into the hectic street, then off they went into London.

"So, where are you taking me?" Sherlock asked.

"Don't you know?" John asked.

"Of course I know," Sherlock said, "I just want to hear you say it."

Through a long maze of streets, they finally pulled up to a shop with a very small car park out in front. "Thank you," John said, and handed the cabbie the money.

"The sex shop," Sherlock appraised the shop in its entirety. The sign over the door and window read: _The Happy Hooker. _

John walked forwards towards the door, and held it open for Sherlock. Inside, Sherlock let his eyes wander over the entire shop. He loosened his scarf just a little bit, showing off the bruises on his neck that John recently left there. To his left in the shop were rows of shelves where DVDs sat up. Against the wall were rows of skin and porn magazines like _Juggs, Playboy, _and _Men at Work. _Erotic novels were stashed up in attractive rows beside the magazines.

The other side of the shop was dedicated to sex toys: dildos, dongs, vibrators, prostate pleasers, nipple clamps, and some BDSM things like handcuffs and silk ropes.

At the back of the shop a clerk sat behind her post at the counter. Behind her was a wall of different types of condoms (flavoured, coloured, her pleasure, ribbed, lubricated, etc.) and different bottles of lubes. "Hi, John!" she said, raising her arm to wave at him.

"Hi, Linda!" John said, taking off his sunglasses and going over to embrace her and give her kisses on her cheeks.

"How are you, sweetie?" she asked.

"I'm doing just fine, how are you? HRT going well?" he asked.

"Thank you for reminding me!" she said, holding up her finger, "I always forget to order my hormones at the very last minute. Thank God I have Susan to remind me at home." That's when Linda looked over John's shoulder to the tall, pale man looking through the toys.

"Is he yours?" she asked John.

"Oh, yeah, Sherlock! This is my friend Linda," John said, and Sherlock walked over to the two of them at the counter. Sherlock looked Linda up and down minutely making deductions of her just before extending his hand to shake hers.

_Transgender MTF, came into her new identity just a year and a half ago. On Hormone Replacement Therapy, has just grown new breasts. Dropped her job at a conservative legal law house working for the government after her divorce with her last wife who left her after she came out. Went into working at a sex shop to liberate herself. Low income. Still saving up for her Bottom Surgery. Bags under her eyes from financial stress. Genuine smile on her face. The shaking in her left hand hints at a moderate case of anxiety from dysphoria. Manicure marred, cares about her appearance only to the extent that she passes as a woman. _

"Hullo, Linda," Sherlock says politely, letting his English accent draw out.

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Sherlock," she says, her voice is quiet. _Acting lessons, not because she's an actress, because she's perfecting her female voice. _

"Remember that vibrating dildo you sold me some time ago?" John interjected.

"Sure," Susan said, and started tapping on the keyboard of the Shop's computer, "Susan has one of her own. Except her's is pink. I think you bought a green one."

"I did!" John said, "Do you have any more in stock?"

"I'm checking now," Linda said and went on typing with the fingers so masculine it gave away her past life, "Yes, we do; only they're all in purple."

Sherlock's ears perked up, purple was his favourite colour.

Sherlock followed John whom followed Linda over to one part of the shop and pointed to a box that held the purple vibrating dildo (best part: batteries included!), "I think we've only got three left."

"Thank you, Linda," John said genuinely to Linda.

"No problem, lovebug," she said, and the shop phone started to ring, so she excused herself to answer the phone.

John stood on his tip-toes to get the dildo down.

"What do you think?" he asked Sherlock.

"It's pretty big," Sherlock said. It was about eight and a half inches long, one and a half inches wide, and looked pretty accurately like an uncircumcised penis.

"It's as big as mine," John said.

"No, yours is shorter and thicker," Sherlock corrected.

"I meant," John said slowly, "my dildo."

"Whoops," Sherlock's face coloured a little.

"Cutie," John said and went back up on his tip-toes to give Sherlock a peck on the cheek, "and you'd better believe mine is as big as this, if not bigger."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, _He says it as if I haven't seen his cock, let alone rode it or had it in my mouth. _

"Come on, let's go upstairs!" John said, and dildo in hand, went towards the stair-case that Sherlock hadn't noticed.

Sherlock followed the other man upstairs, deducing while he went. _Sex shop. Downstairs has covered toys, multiple forms of pornography, condoms, what else could a sex shop want?_

The answer was in a sea of different silks and cottons, _Ah, of course, _Sherlock thought, _lingerie. _

Clothing was up against the walls on racks. Everything from silk pants to maid and nurse costumes. There were some simple knickers in the middle on tables. The farther back the more risqué it got – crotchless panties, edible knickers, pants with strap-on dildos, it went on.

"Why are we up here?" Sherlock asked, "You don't have a cross-dressing fetish, do you, John?"

John giggled, "No, I just appreciate women's lingerie!"

"Of _course _you do," Sherlock said, looking at a mannequin wearing a black lace bra, French cut knickers (with crotch) and a garter with suspenders. The leggings it was wearing were black and had thousands of tiny red cherries on them. Sherlock, while staring at this, was thinking back to the night he met John, and Sherlock had guessed him gay, but John told Sherlock, no, he was bisexual.

"So, you and Linda," he said, as if he wasn't totally jealous, "Did you have a thing?"

"No, not with Linda, she's a lesbian, and attatched. They're getting married, by the way, her and Susan. Now that they've passed it."

"Passed what?"

"You know, the law, same-sex marriage is legal now, didn't you hear?"

"I may have caught it somewhere, yes, now that you mention it."

The two left the second floor, after John started examining some of the panties; he put a pair of thongs to his own hips, and jokingly said, "How do I look?"

"Mmm," Sherlock replied, not so turned on, moreover acknowledging the joke.

As the two checked out the vibrating dildo, Sherlock moved to pull out his wallet just as John gave Linda his card.

"I'm buying for you, it's a _present," _John explained.

"Thank you," Sherlock said respectively, and Linda put the box in an all-black plastic bag with the receipt in it.

"There you go," he said, handing the present to Sherlock, "you boys have fun."

"Thank you, Linda, I'll see you later?" John replied.

"You know where to find me," Linda said, spreading her arms wide, indicating the shop. As if that was the only place she could be found.

They walked down a few streets, hand in hand, Sherlock sometimes bending over to lick the tattooed man's ear and thanking him more. John let out a pleased hum as Sherlock did this, and let the taller man continue to pleasure him this way.

"How about we go to my flat?" John said, as they got onto the main street and hailed another cab.

"Are we going to take my new toy out of its box?"

"Indeed we are," John said, stealing a kiss on the lips just before a cab pulled up.

In the backseat, after John had given his address, Sherlock put his hand right on the front of John's jeans, palming his crotch. John gave him a warning look, _not here. _So Sherlock dragged his hand under John's black shirt and rubbed the skin where he knew where his tattoos were.

"I can't wait to see your tattoos again," Sherlock whispered.

"What about this?" John whispered back, and opened his mouth, pushing up his tongue, so Sherlock could see the little bauble resting under his tongue.

Without an invitation, Sherlock put his own tongue into the man's mouth and flicked the bauble with the tip.

_"In a cab," _John whispered back warningly.

"So we are," Sherlock said, and dived back to connect their mouths again.

"I'm pretty sure the cabbie doesn't want his passengers to start shagging in the back," John replied.

"Your boyfriend is right," the cabbie muttered, mostly to himself, but loud enough that the two men could hear him. Sherlock smiled rather smartly, and John's face was met with an onslaught of blush. While Sherlock stopped trying to continue kissing John, he still kept his hand under John's shirt, his thumb rubbing into John's skin.

"You're free to go," the cabbie commented and pulled up to the kerb where John leaned forward as Sherlock climbed out.

"Sorry about the…" John tried to explain.

The cabbie held up his hand, "I get it literally all the time. Not always with couples like you though."

"Right," John said, handed the cabbie the money with an extra tip, said goodbye, and went out to where Sherlock smashed his lips against John's and started kissing his neck as John started fumbling to unlock the door to the building.

Finally unlocking the door to his flat, Sherlock slammed the door shut behind them and pushed John harshly up against the wall. John's genuine smile seemed to make things hotter. Dropping the bag with the box to the floor, Sherlock tugged off John's shirt and gloried in the tattoos there before moving onwards.

John loved the look on Sherlock's face as he beholded the artwork on his chest. As if it was new every time, like the first night they were together and Sherlock sat in his armchair as John stripped for him. How Sherlock's hands gripped John's hips so tight so he could thoroughly examine the tattoos.

Sherlock gripped John's hips tight now and crushed his own erection against John's hardening cock. Suddenly their tongues were wrapping around each other, wet and warm, with John's hands in Sherlock's hair.

John pushed Sherlock up against the wall now; it was quite a tangle, getting Sherlock to submit to him. He finally won with the words, "I want to fuck you here up against this wall."

Sherlock groaned and let his head tip back against the wall, and he felt John taking off his coat, and that pooled to the floor. His scarf was ripped off over his head and thrown over his shoulder.

John dived in to lick the little welts and bruises that he'd previously left there. "Do you want me to keep doing that to you, Sherlock?" he groaned against the pale skin that would suddenly turn blue from the bruises left there, "Do you want me to keep bruising you? Fucking you so hard you've got something to remember me by?"

"Oh yes," Sherlock moaned out, and tried to grab for where John's belt was.

"No, no," John said, and grabbed both of Sherlock's wrists and pushed them up against the wall over Sherlock's head, "Stay like that. _I'm _touching _you _tonight." With that, John quickly unbuttoned Sherlock's shirt, tore it from his body, then got on his knees in front of Sherlock's crotch, unbuttoning and unzipping his trousers.

Sherlock laid his head back against the wall of John's flat, and tried to steady his breathing. He was getting harder by the minute, and he wasn't keen on passing out to soon. He looked around John's flat as he could feel John harshly take his trousers down to his knees – his pants and erection exposed to him. John's flat was ordinary and clean, there was a dish on the coffee table that meant John hadn't gotten to putting it in the sink. There were some used tissues on the floor, but John hadn't shown any symptoms of being sick. Oh. _Oh. _

"John," Sherlock said happily.

"Yes?" John breathed against Sherlock's clothed erection, and then put his open mouth on it.

Sherlock's breath hitched. That was fucking good, but he pulled through, and steadily said, "You were masturbating last night. What were you masturbating to?"

Instead of being shocked or embarrassed, or even angry, John just replied, very sweetly, "Oh, I think you can figure that out."

Of course Sherlock could figure that out, and as soon as he was looking towards the television to deduce if it was by way of pornography on the television he heard John opening the box.

John stroked Sherlock's cock with his left hand as he opened the box with the fingernails of his right hand, "Sherlock, figure it out. Tell me what I was masturbating to last night."

Sherlock put one hand on John's hand against his crotch, and bucked into it as he examined the telly, then looked to where John's bedroom was, and then looked John in the face, then stole a glance to the crotch of John's trousers where his cock was becoming more pronounced.

"You don't own pornography," Sherlock said.

"Yes," John replied, still stroking Sherlock's hard prick.

"Just toys."

"Yes."

"You own a vibrating dildo, but more than that," Sherlock continued, "so you like having your prostate teased, so you probably have a prostate pleaser, and you probably have a vibrator too. So you were using your toys. But your imagination too. Fantasies, you were masturbating to your fantasies."

"That's right, Sherlock," John said, and Sherlock heard the click of the batteries entering the toy, "I had my vibrating dildo, the one just like this one. And I had it inside of me. And I had my vibrator too. And I just sat there and held my vibrator to my bollocks and came all over myself. What was I thinking about? Tell me."

It was at this point that he heard the dildo being turned on, and the small hum of it, he didn't think it would be that powerful or have that much of an effect on him, but John held it to Sherlock's cock and he gasped out.

_"Fuck that's good," _Sherlock moaned out, and understood why John liked so many toys.

"Come on, Sherlock, tell me what was I thinking about last night?" John said, massaging the false cock into the real one.

"Fucking me! You were thinking about fucking me, and then you wanted me to fuck you with your toys," Sherlock answered.

In answer, John tore off Sherlock's pants and then gave Sherlock's cock one lick, he shoved two fingers into his mouth and sucked them. Then he demanded that Sherlock spread his legs.

Sherlock complied, of course, but it was hard to spread his legs too much, his trousers were still around his ankles. Sherlock started babbling in earnest, "Oh come on, John, oh come on," he whined, "Come on, I'm so hard I'm so hard. I wanna come, come on, John make me come, I want to come all over you."

John let one hand slip down to his own crotch and he stroked his own erection through his jeans. The two fingers he'd been sucking in his mouth went in between Sherlock's legs and one of them were pushed through into Sherlock. He let out a low moan.

"Come on the other one, I'm ready," Sherlock moaned.

John complied and pushed the second one in, Sherlock started huffing then, and when John's fingertips brushed his prostate his breath caught and he groaned. John's hand left his crotch and he pushed the vibrating dildo into his mouth, glad to feel the vibrations there.

"In me, come on, put it _in _me, John. Come on," Sherlock whined.

John smiled at his needy-ness and lined the tip of it up against Sherlock's hole and then gently pushed in.

Sherlock's eyebrows pushed together, his eyes squeezed shut, and his mouth opened and stayed that way, his pulse became ten times as fast, his hands shook as he grabbed for the back of John's head – these were all clues that Sherlock was turned on in a way that he'd never been turned on before.

John had started at a steady slow pace, and as soon as it hit where Sherlock's prostate was, Sherlock let out a loud growl, louder than he'd ever heard Sherlock be before, and Sherlock let a string of profanities leave his mouth before he demanded, "Harder! Faster! Come on, John," and John realized Sherlock was practically sobbing. Sherlock's cock was leaking pre-cum just from the tip and was dripping down the under-side of it.

John licked the beads of it up and continued to fuck Sherlock hard with the dido, and as John kissed just the tip of Sherlock's cock, he put one hand under Sherlock's thigh and released it from the trousers on the floor (although the trousers did put up a good fight).

Sherlock's leg was pushed up against the wall in a way that opened his crotch up, John's hand was just under his knee and it was being pushed up against the wall. Amazingly, this position allowed easier access to his prostate.

"Oh no," John heard Sherlock sob.

"Are you okay?" John asked concernedly, stopping.

"OhGodNoDon'tStop," Sherlock moaned, "I'm about to come."

So John pushed the toy into him and out of him at a monstrous pace, resting Sherlock's balls on his tongue, and suddenly, Sherlock spurted out white cum out onto his own chest. He grabbed something that wasn't there behind his head and moaned out.

John slowly pulled the toy out from him, gently kissed his spent cock, put the wet toy down on the floor and stood so he could kiss Sherlock, who was fighting for breath.

"John, that was so good," Sherlock slurred, and his eyes became heavy-lidded, "I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did."

In answer, John grabbed one of Sherlock's hands and rested it on his crotch, breathing heavy from the contact.

Sherlock's eyes snapped open, "You're as hard as a rock."

"I think I enjoyed that, I'm pretty wet too."

Sherlock crowded John and bullied him to sitting on his couch, "Stay," he said, pointing to John, "Tell me where your toys are."

"In my bedroom," John replied, licking his lips and rubbing his crotch, "In my bed-side table."

So, while Sherlock went into John's room and sat down on John's bed, he took off his shoes while he rifled through the drawers. Most of it was just his pants and socks, but the top drawer, hidden under a pile of socks, was a washed green vibrating dildo, a woman's vibrator, and a box of condoms. He'd been wrong; John didn't have a Prostate Pleaser.

As Sherlock came back out in full nude, holding the box of condoms and the vibrator, he straddled John's lap and laid his cock where John's would be and asked, "Why not?"

"They look weird," John replied, bucking his hips up, looking for some friction, "Plus I could get to my prostate just fine with a dildo or my fingers."

"Do you finger yourself?"

"I used to," John said, "before I got the courage to buy myself something."

A mental image of a younger John with no tattoos, just coming into his sexuality, on his bed and fingering himself as he wanked off was too hot for him to handle and he was rapidly getting harder again.

Sherlock kneeled down between John's legs and pulled his jeans and hi pants down, revealing the tips of the guns that could only be seen when he was naked, and of course, the piercing just at the tip of his cock.

Sherlock licked the piercing and then licked up the pre-come, which John moaned for and pushed his fingers through Sherlock's curls. Sherlock moved his face down, spread John's legs wider and started licking John's arsehole.

"Oh, fuck, that's good," John moaned appreciatively, and then Sherlock clicked on the vibrator and pushed it gently against John's bollocks just as he'd mentioned in his masturbatory session the night before.

"Oh! Oh! Oh! _Ohhh, Sherlock!" _John moaned out. Sherlock smiled as he pushed his tongue deeper into John's arsehole then pulled it out to run the tip around the rim of his arse, then to push it back in, stopping only every once to openly lick up the entire thing.

"Oh yes, yes, yes," John said, and he wrapped his hand around his cock and started pulling.

Sherlock let the vibrator balance on John's balls and then pushed two fingers into his arsehole, John let out a surprised moan, and Sherlock quickly unwrapped a condom with his teeth and slid on a condom.

"I'm gonna fuck you, John," Sherlock growled, "I'm gonna fuck the thinking out of you."

"Do it," John growled through clenched teeth, "I'm so fucking ready and wet."

So with both hands Sherlock grabbed John's legs and lined up his cock with John's arse and pushed in. As the pace was set with John moaning loudly under him, and John's legs wrapping around Sherlock's waist, Sherlock grabbed John's dick with one hand and started working it, and with the other he held the vibrator to his balls.

"_OH OH OH FUCK, SHERLOCK FUCK ME FUCK!" _John screamed out, and with a grunt, Sherlock pounded into him harder.

John's arse was being pounded into and his sweet spot was being successfully teased and pushed into, a vibrator was sitting pretty on his bollocks, and his cock was being pumped. It was sensory overload, and he grabbed the couch with his fists, his eyes rolled back into his head, and he came hard, gasping for breath.

Sherlock put his knees on either side of John's thighs and came for the second time that day on John's chest, decorating the art with his own contribution, and then fell on the couch next to his lover.

"That was fucking incredible," John whined out, still heavy breathing.

Sherlock licked stripes up John's neck and pulled on his gauges with his teeth, then they snogged lazily on the couch. Sherlock licked John's lips, sweetly asking for entrance as if they were virgin teenagers, he pushed his tongue under John's and felt the bauble there. John wrapped his arms around the taller man and Sherlock cupped John's cock with one hand and his face with the other.

Slowly afterwards, they extracted themselves from each other, cleaned up the flat and went to take a shower, cleaning themselves.

"You know what I'd like?" John said in the shower, facing Sherlock who was standing under the downpour of hot water, his wet hair getting in his eyes.

"What's that, luv?"

"Toad in the hole," John answered, kissing Sherlock's shoulders and neck, "I want toad in the hole."

So after they re-dressed, Sherlock patted himself out for cigarettes (he didn't have any) and instead was fed toad in the hole by John and they fell asleep on the couch, both of them needing a much-needed nap, watching Doctor Who.

Weeks later, the two men were still seeing each other.

"Are we boyfriends?" John asked as an after-thought. It was a weekend, and he was standing in Sherlock's kitchen in just his pants, wiping down the counter, Sherlock was sitting reading a textbook in his blue robe.

"Define 'boyfriends'," Sherlock said by way of answering.

"Um. I guess two blokes that go on dates and shag and care about each other."

"Have we gone on a date?"

"Three."

"And do we shag?"

"Very often."

"And do we care about each other?"

"I care about you."

"Well then," Sherlock said, finally looking up from the text, "boyfriends."

John knew in that moment, that that was a Sherlockian way of saying, "I care about you too." So, John made two cups of tea, one for himself and one for his boyfriend, and sat watching Sherlock read.

* * *

**Thus ends the story of a very tattooed John and his beloved Sherlock. As always, I'd like to remind my readers to always get their body mods done professionally and sex is fucking fantastic but you must have a)consent and b)protection. **

**If you review my stories, I'll come to your house and give you oral and make you food. -Harvey**


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